Rumors
by Backroads
Summary: Rules of surviving Berk life:  Never, ever, ever do anything with a guy alone. Anything.  Ever.  A story of various romantic issues and entanglements.
1. An Incident Involving Eggs

In spite of her admittedly many personality flaws, Ruffnut was not a liar. Lying was bad, dishonest, and generally against the notion of keeping together a community. Whatever a Viking did for good or for bad should be acknowledged, all consequences taken with dignity. A Viking was not a coward, and all liars were cowards. She had learned this early on and had taken it to heart. She had always tried to be the good girl that way: if she were going to destroy her mother's garden or set fire to a roof, she was going to own up to it. Aside from the occasional white lies that came from everyone, she did not lie.

The truth was far too much fun.

She blamed her mother for it. The woman was the town gossip, blessed by the gods with an ear for every remotely interesting incident that went on in Berk. Since a good Viking never lied, one could be certain that the news that reached her ears contained at least a nugget of truth. Ruffnut and her brother were never of course meant to hear any of it, as went their mother's precursor to everything she told their father, but, well, blood was blood and Ruffnut apparently had the same ears.

Ruffnut did not consider herself a gossip. She didn't much have the attention span or the desire to stand around with a bunch of silly old ladies pouring out so much news with the laundry suds. She'd rather be killing something or nearly getting herself killed.

But the good stuff, the really good stuff, was something she could hardly be expected to avoid. She should be thanked for keeping her tongue silent about everything she heard. She deserved to mention a few things here and there.

Most things were forgiven. Like when she was seven and let it be known Tuffnut was in like of some water creature from a story. Or when she was twelve and mentioned it to more than a few that Astrid's signature knife of the time was much lighter than she claimed. People put up with her. In fact, as long as the story did not happen to be about them, everyone loved her stories.

After all, she was a pretty amusing girl. Sure, she was obnoxious, but she could get people laughing. Stories, pranks, other bits of mischief… they all managed to keep her somewhat unhated.

* * *

><p>"I still don't get what we're doing here." Fishlegs twisted his thick fingers together, his voice fighting against the higher octave of reluctant disobedience. "More specifically, I don't get what I'm going here. I mean, this is pretty much like you, so…"<p>

Ruff sighed and set down her basket of eggs next to the two Fishlegs had carried. "I already told you. For fun. Particularly, my fun."

"Obviously. Because this isn't fun. It's cold and it's dark and I really don't think we're supposed to be up here."

"Meade Hall is a perfectly acceptable public place, Fishlegs." Though it was getting dark, no argument there. The ocean spread around the island like tar, not a star pushed past the clouds, and hardly a late-night fire could be seen. She hadn't considered making Fishlegs bring up a torch. Apparently she just wasn't meant to be practical, and the result was that finding just the right spots for optimum egg-leaving was hard. It was one thing to blindly climb an entire building by touch, it was quite another to actually need eyes.

"Perfectly acceptable on the inside," he muttered. "Why aren't you making your brother help?"

Ah. A particularly smooth surface. A good rainstorm was only hours away and the right amount of water would send rotten eggs all over the village, if the winds were right and Loki were on her side. She set to work. "Broken leg. Remember? You were there."

"Yeah, but it was your fault."

Ruff just laughed. The incident which had led to Tuffnut's broken leg was already local legend among the younger children of the village. Yes, Tuff would have been perfect for this save for the fact he couldn't carry up as many rotten eggs as Fishlegs. For that the big oaf was perfect. And so easy to convince. Nice guys tended to be so.

If only he weren't such a stick-in-the-mud.

Fishlegs mumbled something under his breath. Ah, a touch of anger, maybe a hint of that legendary berserking.

So many eggs, and he just stood there thinking more whiney thoughts. Ridiculous. She hadn't spent months sneaking an egg or two every now and then to spend an entire night lining them up by herself. "Y'know, Fishlegs, the faster we get this done, the faster you can get down and forget all about this."

"I'm not going to forget about it when there is rotten egg smell everywhere. Like a giant—"

"Giant fart. Giant wet soaking fart stinking up the entire village." Yeah, she did speak with a little too much glee, but it was a prank that had come to her in a dream and she was not going to let it die. "Get over it or get a cold in time."

"I'm going to get a cold from being up here this late."

"Eggs, Fishlegs. Now. Pick up an egg, and put it in a place where it will be most likely to fall off the roof during a horrible rainstorm."

He sighed deeply, but moved to pick up an arm load of eggs. "It's high up here. And dark."

Priceless. Big huge Viking scared. "Please don't tell me you're afraid of heights and the dark."

"I'm not afraid of heights!" His voice was echoing enough to wake the entire island, and Ruff froze.

No one moved in the houses below. She let out the breath she had held. "Gods, you're loud."

"Sorry." He crouched next to her, carefully and much too slowly setting down an egg.

"So you're afraid of the dark, then?"

"I am not!" Even with a hissing whisper he could be loud.

"Because you could have said no."

"No, I could not have."

She smiled. That was true. "You're far too eager to please."

His frown was visible even in the dark. "I didn't think you would be doing this when you said you needed help. I figured, wow, she never needs help. This has to be serious."

"This is serious, Fishlegs. Extremely serious."

"We are going to get in so much trouble."

"Oh, come on. You know they're going to blame me. Not you."

"I can't believe I'm helping you with this." He was fighting panic now. "We'll just go… quick."

Once Fishlegs bother to help the mission went seamlessly. A quick, hand-felt survey to make sure the eggs were in prime spots, a glance skyward for weather, and they were done.

Fishlegs didn't speak again until they were climbing from the Hall's roof. "I guess that wasn't so bad."

"Oh, but it will be bad. And you'll have the satisfaction of knowing all you did—" She nearly screamed.

There was a torch.

Fishlegs actually did scream, a short one before she stepped on his foot.

The torch moved closer, a bumbling light, before two sets of eyes appeared, bright with firelight.

Kids.

Ruff put a hand to her heart and breathed deep. Kids. Of all the stupid things to scare her. She didn't recognize them. Just a couple of children, a sample from the many in the village. Two little boys, a line of fish draped over one's shoulder.

"What are you doing out?" Fishlegs demanded.

Was the answer not obvious? Night fishing, probably looking for the monster that Gobber said inhabited the water. Every kid in Berk had done it. Some sort of childhood initiation. Every kid except Fishlegs, apparently.

The boys didn't answer that.

"We heard noises," one said, eyes wide and voice far too happy.

"And we want to know what you were doing," followed his friend, jutting a finger toward the roof of the hall. "Up there."

"A secret," Ruff replied. Stupid kids.

"No, you weren't."

"We were fixing the roof," said Fishlegs.

Ooh, even better than a secret.

The first kid laughed. "No, you weren't. My brother says that anytime anyone goes to the roof they're doing something else."

Both kids burst into giggles, phrases of "kissing" making their ways through.

Fishlegs gave a deep groan. "Go. Home."

A simple enough command. The kids trotted off, still giggling, and Fishlegs groaned again. "I'm going home, too."

Ruff supposed he deserved that. "All right. Thanks."

He paused before walking off. "I hope those kids don't say anything tomorrow."

"About us being on the roof? If they do, I'll kick them. Besides, what are they going to say? They're going to forget all about it."

* * *

><p><em>All right, opening chapter, more to come. Comments, critiques, and advice always welcome!<em>


	2. Lies

Morning came far too early. The clouds of the approaching rainstorm failed to block out nearly enough light and Fishlegs cursed the uncovered windows as he pulled his blanket over his head. He was not opposed to getting up at dawn like he had each morning for as long as he could remember. The glory of morning and the potential of a new day, chock full of things to learn and do, was enough to get him out of bed. Usually.

Strict Viking mindset of not wasting the day was no match for unwilling participation of the nighttime antics of some girl.

Fresh air was good for the body. Gave energy. He breathed in what he could and forced the blanket away. Recite knowledge. That was always good. He all but fell to the floor. His big body was all the harder to move when he was exhausted. Stupid muscles. Stupid breath for not reviving them.

Ruffnut had seemed so relatively innocent when she approached him the evening before. Big eyes for once full of something besides mischief, a tale of how she needed help and what with that incident with her brother and the apples, years of being raised to be nice to girls… Fishlegs should have known better. He had known the Thorston twins pretty much their entire lives and he certainly knew far better than to trust even one of them. Madness was not dependant on teamwork.

He stared out the window. Already a drizzle was falling and the sky was nothing more than a grayish mist. Would it be enough rain to displace all of those eggs? There didn't seem to be any panic yet.

Rotten eggs. On top of Meade Hall. Ridiculous. Was Ruffnut just bored? The days of dragon killing, only months gone, had seemed enough to occupy the twins. What now? Dragon flight no longer exciting enough for them? Knowing Ruff and Tuff, it was the most logical explanation. Never mind the amount of perfectly good eggs that could have been eaten.

Speaking of eating, that needed to be done.

Downstairs he found his mother busily stirring a mash while she hummed some off-key tune to herself. She was small, dark, and it was incredible to think she was his mother. Well, she liked learning. Fishlegs' father was legendary for lifting entire boulders over his head and didn't recognize a single rune.

"Where were you last night?" she asked without turning around. No demand or accusation in her voice, just a simple and motherly question.

Fishlegs nearly tripped. That question? Now? He had not made much of a secret about leaving the house, but why did curiosity have to rear its ugly head now? Well, no sense in lying. Though he would leave out the part about the eggs. "Ruffnut Thorston needed help with something."

"Oh." The response was unexpectedly short.

He took a seat, hoping to appear smaller behind the table. Okay, short response. Suspicious. He could either leave it alone or elaborate. "She needed something moved. And Tuff has a broken leg—"

"Yes. That episode in the eastern pasture. I heard all about it. Why didn't her father move something for her?"

"It was a secret?" Wow, but he hated it when his voice went high. Nothing more suspicious than that.

"Which is why it had to be done near the Hall?" She lifted the pot from the fire and set in on the table. Fishlegs wasn't sure if the steam was coming from the mash or from her eyes.

For several long moments his thoughts were a blur. He wasn't prone to lying, especially his mother. No good Viking lied. But then the panic fled as a much-needed breath of logic wormed its way in. He was nearly seventeen years old. As much a Viking as any man in the village. He had left late at night to help Ruff of his own accord. He might regret it, but he wasn't going to deny it. No sense in avoiding the conversation. Easy enough to say. Freely declare that yes, he had been at Meade Hall with Ruffnut. He opened his mouth to speak.

"We're not going to have her father over here, are we?" His mother was not a mean woman. She did not usually put such venom into her words.

Fishlegs stared. "For what?"

She sighed, stabbed a spoon into the pot, and threw her hands into the air. "Oh, I trust you, Fishlegs. At least I hope I am capable of retaining trust in you. Keeping our family respectable. I am perfectly happy with my assumption that it was just a bit of kissing. I was young once. I understand the romance of climbing to the top of the Hall and looking at the stars—"

What in the name of Sif's golden hair was she talking about? Once more he attempted to speak. If only his mind hadn't been thrown for such a loop. Any connection between mind and mouth was gone.

"So is there a problem?" Her hands were at her hips now and she looked far larger than her size.

Fishlegs shook his head. "I… I don't even know what you're talking about it."

"Well, Catclaw told me that her son saw you and Ruffnut Thorston late last night sneaking away from the Hall and I only did what I could do with the information presented… not a lot of conclusions I could come to unless you were participating in one of the crazy things she does…"

Good, something to which to respond. "That's exactly what we were doing."

"Kissing?"

"Rotten eggs." The word was like a curse, but relieving to say. "That was it. She wanted to putt rotten eggs on top of the Hall and she couldn't carry them up by herself. I didn't know what she was doing. I swear."

His mother's eyes widened and a smirk developed on her mouth. "That was it? You helped waste eggs?"

"They were rotten. Beyond saving."

"And… they were dumped on top of the Hall. The communal meeting spot of Berk."

Fishlegs nodded.

She sighed and put a hand to her forehead. "I'm not going to say anything. I am not going to say anything about that."

"But you would say something about me and Ruffnut being out at night?"

"I think as your mother it's my business to know. Especially with Catclaw saying all these things to me, I don't know what to think. Especially with you. Never heard of this kind of behavior before from you, out with a girl…"

Had the egg issue so quickly fled her thoughts? "Eggs!"

She stared at him as if it were the first time he had spoken. "Fine. Eggs. That's not what her son was saying."

The two little kids out night fishing. Fishlegs closed his eyes and sighed. "What did he say?" The giggling whispers about kissing hadn't made it home, had they? Of course they had. What had his mom just said? "It's barely day. How did she mention this already?"

"A lot gets done early." Her voice was nonchalant.

Clearly. "So am I in trouble?" Silly question, he hadn't been in trouble in years.

"Of course not. I'm going to pretend nothing was ever mentioned concerning who knows how many rotten eggs up on top of the Hall." She pulled out bowls and began to slosh the mash into them. "I'm just really hoping your father hasn't heard any of this yet."

So it wasn't over. "Are you going to tell him?"

"Of course. If he hasn't already heard."

Fishlegs' stomach twisted as he stared at breakfast. He was no longer hungry, which was rare for him. He didn't even know the names of those two kids, so had they known him? And Ruffnut? "I think I'll eat later."

The rain felt good as a modest little effort to calm the horror building up inside of him. He stood outside the house, staring at the rest of the village. The faint light of the rising sun did little, and Berk looked as peaceful as it had in the night. To the west the sky momentarily split with lightening. A storm. Maybe lots more rain. That would please Ruffnut.

The conversation of the morning wrapped itself into one neat summary: He had just been accused of kissing Ruffnut.

It might have been altered air pressure from the storm, but he felt rather dizzy. He had never been accused of anything, especially anything involving a girl. He had never even imagined being accused of such a thing. What was he supposed to do with it?

Thunder erupted. With dragon training a thing of the past he spent most of the day in the quarry. Today there would be far too much mud and even the dragons who had been trained to work there all hated getting their wings wet.

So now what?

Find something else to do, it was as simple as that. Find a book, hole up in the Great Hall where he wouldn't have to witness anything involving eggs. Forget all about this. He just hoped Ruffnut wouldn't hear any of it. He had never seen her mad, at least much beyond irritation, but he imagined it would be pretty bad. Would she care? He tried to her imagine her hearing about this and his mind drew a blank at her reaction.

He still did not feel very good about it.

Meade Hall appeared even bigger in the rainfall. He slowly made his way toward it. His mind kept racing. How could have two kids drawn the conclusion that any kissing of any sort or any physical touch, for that matter, had occurred? It was entirely improbable. Kids had way too big of imaginations. Had they done anything in the night that could have been misinterpreted? No, they had just been walking. Not even near each other. No evidence whatsoever. He had to be missing something.

But nothing had happened. It was as simple as that. Nothing had happened, he had straightened that much out with his mother and all was well. Nothing more to talk about it. There was no reason for anyone else to hear about it. Catclaw couldn't have told that many people before the sun had even risen.

Ruffnut would never hear about it, anyway. She didn't have the attention span to pay attention to such things. And if she did, well, this was Ruffnut. If he couldn't imagine her reacting, then obviously she wouldn't be reacting. She would just laugh and brush it off. Maybe.

He had no idea.

He had seen girls before, watched how they acted, how they talked. He didn't understand any of it, but it had always frightened him. They did get overly concerned about the strangest things.

What if this overly concerned Ruffnut?

The Hall was largely empty. No doubt those who usually worked outside had remained longer in their homes. A few older men were gathered at tables, talking loudly about nothing important. The only person who caught Fishlegs' eye was Snotlout. No surprise there. Snotlout talked a big talk but everyone knew he was afraid of thunder.

Snotlout was pretty strong, though. Had Ruffnut mentioned the idea of the eggs to him? Maybe. Maybe he had said no. Maybe he assumed Ruffnut had asked others. Which meant the concept of last night would not be completely unreasonable to him.

The panic increased. Fishlegs quickly sat down at a table. Nothing to do. He had forgotten a book or something to carve. He shouldn't have come here. The eggs, his own handiwork, were on the roof. He was at the scene of the crime, which as a few village women were concerned had been a crime of trouble.

What if someone heard about it?

He tried to push the thought away. It was way too early in the day. He fought to control his breath. He just had to look calm. Just a bored teenager on a rainy day. Nothing to do but be here. Maybe he could look invisible.

Except Snotlout had seen him. And decided to approach him.

That was odd. As far as Fishlegs could tell, Snotlout merely tolerated him. Which was fine with Fishlegs, all he really expected. Perhaps Snotlout was just bored, looking for someone to brag to.

Fishlegs couldn't think straight. Great. He was accused of kissing some girl and his brain stopped functioning. He was over reacting. He knew it, and he couldn't stop.

Snotlout opened his big mouth to say something.

Oh, gods, he knew. Somehow he had heard about the kissing lie. Somehow the web of women had reached him. He had to be set straight.

"Ruff and I did absolutely nothing on the roof," Fishlegs said, much louder than he intended. Immediately he regretted it.

Snotlout closed his mouth, and his eyes went wide.

Fishlegs fought for more words. Clarification. None were coming. He stood up. "I need to go."


	3. Decisions

The day sucked. Five minutes into morning consciousness and the day was already a bad one. The morning had come far too quickly and Ruffnut clearly had not had enough sleep. She liked mornings but she also liked sleep. She preferred it when both were to be had.

Rain was common enough on Berk and she had done nothing but expect it, so she barely paid the outside view a glance. A morning was just another morning. She brushed and braided her hair, scrubbed her face, helped her mother with breakfast, and shoved Tuffnut almost into the fire. After accepting the scolding that it probably was not the nicest thing to do to someone with a broken leg even if it were Tuff she settled without much extraneous thought into the rest of her day.

Which continued to suck. Apparently little injuries like fractured legs prevented Tuffnut from doing anything useful and Ruffnut did not even have the excuse of outside to get away from him. With their mother watching them it was nearly impossible to torment him as much as he deserved. She stabbed herself twice with a needle, the bread did not rise well (and good bread was one of few domestic necessities on which she prided herself), and Tuff could not shut up about how much pain he was in.

At least it was raining. As nasty as the day was and as tired as she was, it was raining just as she had planned. The rain would pour down, hopefully cause a nice flood atop Mead Hall, and all would be worth it. Yes, it would be worth it; not that she could remember when a prank had not had some merit. But this particular prank was the result of hard work and long planning, and Ruff liked to take pride in all her hard work. She was that awesome, she deserved it.

It had been a good night. A late night, obviously, but a good one. She liked all the planning that had gone into it. She liked the good ol' fashioned thrill of a late night climb. She liked that she had convinced Fishlegs to do something not strictly in the rules and she liked to imagine that made her a good person.

Well, she had done her good deed for the year and hopefully Fishlegs would wind up a little less boring due to her efforts.

And, in the evening or possibly even the afternoon, the rain would lessen and she could find a reason to wander outside to observe all the horror. It was delightful just thinking about it.

But the day, until that moment, would continue to suck. Rain was common, yes, but she still hated it. Berk needed to be sunny and welcoming so she could do what she did best without getting soaked. So the day wore on as it did, the rain outside gradually becoming heavier and occasionally producing lightening and pounding thunder, and between chores and yelling at her brother the thought of the eggs slipped from her mind.

Until her mother went outside to bring in a rain barrel.

Amazing how fast people's dispositions could change. Her mother had gone outside, hood over her head, whistling a little song… only to return five minutes later without any water and her face red with fury.

"Tuff did it," was Ruff's standard response to such a sight.

"Hey!" Tuff was for all intents and purposes immobile, his bed moved to a convenient position by the fire. "I've been here all morning! For a lot of mornings!"

Their mother ignored him. "Of all the things I have heard in this village." Her voice was quiet and threatening and brought to mind the aura of a spider. "I, who have heard so much… every horror, every sin…"

Argument gone, Ruff exchanged a quick glance with her brother. "Mom, what are you talking about?"

There was no reply, just more of the same. "And the time! Now? After so long?"

Ruff began to really wish she knew just to whom her mother was speaking.

The answer came quickly. "Ruff. Now." Without another word her mother sprang over to Ruff's side, squeezed her wrist, and dragged her into the outside downpour.

Ruff could not smell a single rotten egg. "Mom! My hair!"

"Oh, forget your hair for one minute."

Ruff bit her tongue before her response. She knew much better than to argue with her mother. "It's wet out here."

"I thought you didn't mind being outside."

"I don't mind, I just don't—" She bit her tongue again. Just what was she supposed to think for her next thought? That her little prank had been traced back to her and therefore she was in trouble or that her mother had known her for the past sixteen years and who really cared?

"My own daughter," her mother missed. "I had always thought I was a decent mother, strove to be. I had done my best to teach you, to be an example to you. And then you turn around and do this to me?"

Apparently she was in trouble. Was it too late to blame it all on Fishlegs' as his idea? Nah, no one would fall for that. She made a mental note to work on her blaming skills. "Mom, it was just a few eggs. No threat of anyone dying this time."

Her mother's mouth, half open in preparation for guilt trip, paused and made a quick change for speech. "What are you talking about?"

Perhaps the rain was too loud for correct hearing. "What are you talking about?"

"Eggs." Her mother repeated the word silently several times to herself, then shook her head. "Never mind that, I assume you're speaking of those smelly eggs you've been storing up for weeks. I'm talking about what you did last night. Aside from putting those stupid eggs on top of the Hall, don' t think I wasn't aware of that."

Ruff made a quick assessment of the night. She couldn't recall anything as exciting as the egg incident. "I think you're just going to have to trust me when I said nothing happened."

Her mother's face changed, became almost desperate. "But I'm your mother! I should be the first one you tell when you know of something so wonderfully illicit going on around here."

It was wet, it was cold, and Ruff had no idea what her mother was talking about. Her hair was going to turn into three ropes of escaped frizz and with any bad luck she would catch a cold. As much as she loved gossip, this was not the time nor place. "What happened that was so illicit?"

Her mother took a deep breath, a sure sign of a ready speech. "Well, I came out to bring in the water and someone told me that you and that odd Fishlegs boy were having quite the romantic entanglement."

Ruff felt like a rock had been thrown right at her head. She had absolutely no recollection of anything like that and she would have expected herself to know. "Mom, I swear—"

"And I am the last to hear of this! You obviously knew about it since it involved you and you didn't even bother to tell me! I feel like the last to know when I should have been the one spreading it!"

Another clap of thunder boomed over head.

"Mom," Ruff said as calmly as she could. "Shouldn't you be a little more concerned about me getting into trouble and less about your place in hearing things?"

Her mother couldn't speak for a few moments, but her face twisted into a shocked smile and a blush. "Oh. Oh my. I suppose I should be."

"I am your daughter, after all."

"You are." She sighed and gave a small laugh. "I guess I didn't quite understand in my mind it was you involved. All right, then I change my stance on this and I demand to know what you were thinking."

Her soaked braids made her head feel all the heavier. Ruff so wanted to go inside. "Thinking about what?"

"Fishlegs. Or whoever it was. If the story was changed, so be it."

"Oh, yes. Fishlegs. Like I would participate in some illicit romantic entanglement with Fishlegs, of all people. Eww."

The smile faded from her mother's face, and her arms crossed over her chest.

Oh, for crying out loud… "Mom, I swear. Nothing happened. I don't know where you heard this. All Fishlegs did was help me carry the eggs up. That's it."

The frown did not falter.

"Mom, I promise! This is me. Would I ever do anything like that?" She hoped her mother would believe her. For it was true. For all her faults, Ruffnut had never been in trouble with a guy. For all her flirting she had failed to attract anyone. Oh, well.

Her mother sighed again. "No, no, you wouldn't. You're at least good that way."

"So I'm not in trouble?"

"No, I suppose not. Just a pity that's it's apparently been out and about all morning…"

It was like being hit with another rock. The logic that she should have seen. If her mother had been so late in hearing this tale then…

Oh, the bloody one eye of Odin.

She looked at her mother squarely in the eyes. "I have to go. I assume you understand." Then she was off, no longer caring about how wet it was or any such complaint.

Fishlegs was easy enough to find. Ruff believed she was born with a specific kind of compass, the kind that allowed her to find anyone when need be. It came in great use for tormenting people and perhaps could be considered an excuse that she just couldn't help herself, she was born that way. Fishlegs was far too smart for his own good but also spent a good deal of time outside. Which meant that on a rainy day he would be holed up somewhere reading. He liked to be around people enough that it was doubtful he was in his own home. Which meant he would have gone to Mead Hall. Which meant that news of this would have already reached him. Which meant that he, being the coward that he was, was hiding from her.

Assuming he hadn't started it.

Would he have started it? She couldn't decide. He was a nice guy, rather docile, not the type to intentionally hurt anyone, physically or emotionally. But then again, who knew what was swirling around in that enormous head of his? If anyone was going to shock the tribe and kill them all in some genius evil scheme, she bet on Fishlegs.

She was so going to kill him. She paused only once to scan the area and let that inner compass do its work and decided that he would be hiding down by the water in assurance that he would know how to handle it and that no one would attempt.

And that was where she had found him. Sixth sense had prevailed again. Unfortunately he was standing close enough to the water that he could jump in and perhaps drown himself if he felt threatened and she did not have the strength to pull someone of his size from the ocean. She sucked in the wet air and tried to calm herself.

She said nothing until he turned around. His eyes went wide and he made the smallest of motions toward the water.

Her javelin would have been useful at this time. "I assume you heard the news?"

He seemed to be reconsidering the drowning-himself idea. After a moment he nodded. Barely.

She approached him slowly, though everything in her wanted to run at him, knock him over, and begin the strangling. "I assume it's the same news I heard?"

Another faint nod.

He knew far too much. It was all she could take. A scream broke from her throat, complete with every interesting swear she had ever heard and all the accusation she could manage. "What did you say? What were you telling people?"

He stood there, large body trembling.

At last the screaming was over. She fought for breath and waited for his reply.

"I swear I said nothing. I don't know what happened. It was the first thing I heard about this morning. My mom thinks we were up there last…. I don't know what she thought we were doing."

The shore spun. Not enough sleep, wet hair, and all that screaming had gotten to her. She slowly sunk to the ground, supposing she believed him. Of course. She had given him far too much credit to make up such a lie. "This is completely insane. That I had killed someone, yes. That I had burned down a house Hiccup-style, yes. But that I was as much as kissing someone like you? Please, I can't believe anyone thinks that." Was that a rude thing to say?

Fishlegs frowned. "Not that you're a catch yourself."

Trust Fishlegs to be tactlessly blunt. She picked up a rock and threw at him. It bounced off of his chest as he flinched. "Excuse me? I think you would consider yourself lucky to have someone like me kiss you."

"But you didn't," he replied. "But everyone thinks you did."

So this was justice. She put a hand to her head. Was this was it felt like to be the subject of all those other half-truths she had mentioned? She wasn't so sure she liked it. "This is a huge mess."

"It was those kids," Fishlegs said flatly. "The ones who were going fishing that we ran into. They started it. One told his mom."

"I hate kids."

"I hate being involved with this. I would never do anything like kissing you. Or anything else."

"Are people saying we have been?" Yes, she knew that. Her mother had suggested as much. "Darn it all."

Fishlegs looked ready to faint at such a thought. No doubt more than his mind could handle. "So what do we do? I'm not used to this. No one has anything to say about me ever. How long does this kind of thing last?"

Ruff sighed. "Calm down, you big idiot. I'll think of something." What else was her own mind good for?

"You have to hurry. Snotlout completely believes it. All of it."

Well, Snotlout was annoying. She stood up and brushed the wet sand from her skirt. "We're just going to transfer this. Snotlout wants to talk about it, he can be the subject of it."

Fishlegs' eyes widened. "Isn't that… rude?"

Ruff rolled her eyes. "You have so much to learn."


	4. More Lies

"So…" Hiccup said slowly. "Fishlegs. It's… good to see you."

In the back of his mind Fishlegs observed that Hiccup wasn't quite as wordy as he usually was and Hiccup was the sort of guy you could count on for being decently droll at any given moment. Sarcasm, rather highminded-sounding phrases. Fishlegs, if no one else, enjoyed listening to him every now and then. He was supposed to always have something to say, but now Hiccup just seemed uncomfortable. Fishlegs had gone to the forge when he had fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately) had discovered Hiccup and once the usual pleasantries of greeting were past Hiccup's speechcraft just wasn't up to par.

Then again, Fishlegs hadn't been the best at holding up his end of the conversation. Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead. Was that little detail contributing to the awkwardness of the situation? "I think you already said that."

"Yeah. Forgive me for not knowing the right words to say to someone who just stands in one spot staring at me for five whole minutes." Hiccup's signature sarcasm returned in full force. That was good.

Except Fishlegs still wasn't sure to say. "Sorry about that. I don't know what I'm supposed to be saying."

Hiccup glanced back at the anvil where he had been pounding a sword. It was probably going to be an awesome sword, Fishlegs thought. "Well, I do need to actually be working. Or something. So if you don't know what you're supposed to be saying you could make small talk while I work. Or continue on with your day."

Fishlegs cleared his throat and tried to remember all of what Ruffnut had told him. She just talked so fast and frankly Fishlegs didn't much care for what they were doing. All he knew was that she had said something about Snotlout and Astrid. There were more details… "You haven't heard any strange rumors going on, have you?"

Hiccup shook his head as he picked up a hammer and began pounding the sword. "I'm still out of the loop of the rumor mill. Saving the entire village and possibly all of humanity doesn't do very much and old habits die hard. Besides, who cares about gossip?"

Fishlegs forced a laugh that was terrifying even to his ears and Hiccup nearly dropped his hammer. "Yeah. Gossip. That's for girls."

"That might be a sexist thing to say, but yeah, I get what you're saying. You really are a great one for conversation, Fishlegs. No offense. I mean, it's nice you dropped in to talk to me. You're just not… talking."

"I can talk."

"I know."

"So, talking." Gods, why did he let Ruffnut talk him into doing yet another stupid thing? Was he so incapable of standing up to a crazy girl like her? "Speaking of Snotlout—"

"I didn't think we were." Hiccup gave the sword another strong smack with the hammer. "Does this look even to you?"

"I wouldn't know. So speaking of Snotlout, did you hear about what he did?"

Hiccup let the hammer fall to his side as he stared at Fishlegs. It made Fishlegs very uncomfortable. Hiccup wasn't mean, everyone knew that, but he still didn't like the way the other boy was looking at him. "Are you actually trying to gossip?"

Fishlegs' gaze dropped to the floor. He didn't have the social skills to gossip; he had tried to explain that to Ruffnut and she hadn't cared, not at all. "Yes."

"Oh, boy." Hiccup rolled his eyes.

"But it's not gossip. It's the truth." That was another thing Ruff had said. Don't let there be any doubt in the phrase. The listener had to think it was 100% truth. 100% or it wouldn't work. And Fishlegs knew a thing or two about percentages. When it came to 100% there was no ifs, ands or buts. "I swear."

That seemed to pique Hiccup's interest slightly.

"So I guess Snotlout really likes Astrid."

Hiccup blushed slightly but otherwise showed no emotion. "Yeah. He has flirted with her for years."

Fishlegs took a deep breath and gave himself another moment to go over the information in his mind. He just had to trust Ruff, that's what she had told him. Trust her and do exactly what she said and all would go well. But say everything in his own words. "So last night he asked her to go to the roof of Mead Hall with him."

The hammer dropped from Hiccup's hand and struck the floor with a loud clang. "What?"

Fishlegs wasn't sure how to respond. That did seem to be a positive reaction. Maybe he was better at this gossip stuff that he had thought. Strange, though. No one had ever seemed to listen to him before. "Just what I said. Last night Snotlout asked Astrid to go to the roof of Mead Hall with him."

The sword on the anvil was beginning to do something weird that Fishlegs figured couldn't be good, but Hiccup didn't seem to notice. "That's impossible. You must have heard wrong."

Fishlegs hadn't been prepared for an accusation of impossibility. "No, no. I talked with the kids who saw them. The kids were out fishing and they saw Snotlout and Astrid going to the roof."

"When?"

"I talked with the kids last night after everything happened."

"When last night?"

Fishlegs wanted to crawl into a hole. How did Ruffnut find this fun? "Late? I mean, late. Really late. After everyone was asleep."

Hiccup shook his head. "No. Astrid said she was tired and it was late so she was going home to bed."

"That sword is starting to bend…" Fishlegs pointed at the anvil.

But Hiccup wasn't listening. "So it's impossible. Because Astrid is honest."

"Maybe she didn't want you to know."

"If she didn't like me she would just break up with me."

"I didn't even know you were dating."

Hiccup nodded. "I thought everyone knew we were. Not were. Because we are. So I don't believe what you said. Those kids were lying."

Fishlegs was really sweating. He was going to get caught. He was so going to get caught in his big mess and then Ruff would get mad at him all over again. This was the last time he was ever going to do a favor for anyone. "No, I was lying."

"Why would you lie about that?"

Honesty was a wonderful thing and Fishlegs couldn't understand why he hadn't just gone with it in the first place. Of course, if he had he would not have even been there. He breathed in the rainy and smoky air and felt a million times better. "Because Ruffnut told me to."

Hiccup made a face and picked up his hammer. "That was mean of her. Yet I'm not surprised."

Ruffnut was mean, wasn't she? Fishlegs had never thought of her that way. "Yes. That was mean of her."

Hiccup stared at the mess his sword had become. "Great," he muttered under his breath. "Now I have to fix this. If you admit that it was mean, why did you come here and tell me that?"

Fishlegs thought quickly. No way was he going to implicate himself on this matter, so he repeated his earlier phrase. "Because she told me to."

"So you listened to her?"

"She's kind of scary."

"And you're what, three times her size?"

"I don't hit girls," Fishlegs said defensively.

Hiccup shrugged. "She would hit you without thinking twice about it. And has, now that I think about it. A number of times. Don't feel bad, she has also hit me." He rubbed his shoulder.

"Maybe I should just go…" Fishlegs turned towards the forge's entrance.

"Whoa, hold on!" Hiccup called. "Apparently you felt the need to come all the way over here and lie to my face. What's going on?"

"Um…" He was so not ready for this kind of question.

"Look, it's not like you to pal around with just her. And the entire village knows about what happened to Tuff so he's out of commission for Odin knows how long. So I deduce that something is going on."

Fishlegs squeezed his eyes shut and thought hard and fast. And, to this thankful surprise, inspiration came. "Snotlout was on the roof last night." He opened his eyes and waited for results.

"But not with Astrid."

"No. He was there with Ruff."

Hiccup's eyes went as wide as saucers and he dropped his hammer again.

"You kind of need to fix that sword," Fishlegs pointed out.

"Come on, forget the sword. The sword is a disaster, I feel bad about it, I'll fix it in a few minutes. When you say Snotlout was on the roof of Mead Hall with Ruffnut, do you mean that way? As in Snotlout was on the roof of Mead Hall with Ruffnut?"

Fishlegs paused. "Yes?"

Hiccup laughed nervously, then shook his head. "I figured Snotlout would eventually get a girl up there."

Fishlegs tried to laugh, too, though he wasn't sure why. All he was sure of was that Ruffnut was not going to be happy with him.

"Wow. Maybe I should pay more attention to stuff like this. I mean, I've only been up there with Astrid once. It's not worth the climb, really, and it feels stupid flying a dragon up there and apparently you're supposed to climb anyway according to tradition…"

"Tradition," Fishlegs echoed, laughing again.

"So Ruffnut didn't want her reputation soiled." Hiccup laughed. "Anyway, it was good talking to you."

And with that Fishlegs found himself shuffled out the door.

Now he was going to have to explain this to Ruffnut.


End file.
